


waking up

by EllsterSMASH



Series: little pieces of us [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Trespasser, Prompt Fill, solavellan hell is suffering, that got way out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 01:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllsterSMASH/pseuds/EllsterSMASH
Summary: Prompt: [I mean Unbreakable Kiss - Solavellan is required by law so I guess I'll go with that one]Strange things have been happening at the Dread Wolf's headquarters. Solas finds the one responsible, but they are not what he expected.





	waking up

It has been a trying day.

After spending most of his time settling a number of petty squabbles and minor annoyances, Solas closes the door to his rooms behind him. Piece by piece, he sheds the mantle of Fen’Harel, puts off the heavy weight of the Dread Wolf’s armor and replaces it with soft leather leggings. A simple tunic, tied around his waist. He pours himself a glass of wine from a tray left on the table, drinks it dry, then pours another.

There are letters on his desk that must be read, assessed, returned. But he is tired. Something must be in the air around the fortress, or the water within. Something that has disquieted his people, sown discord and mistrust throughout the ranks. At first, he had suspected a spirit, perhaps one of chaos. Yet there is no evidence of any such interaction present or lingering in the Fade. Sabotage is still a possibility, _always_ a possibility, but the effects have been so minimal—no more annoying than the buzz of an insect in one’s ear—that he believes it unlikely.

No. His people are mortals, mostly. To them, his days are years, his lifetime an eternity. Most likely, they are simply acting like the children they are. Impatient. Restless. _Bored._

A commotion breaks out in the courtyard beneath his balcony. Solas breathes deeply, slowly, and walks out into the open air to find two of his soldiers restraining a woman by the arms, while another holds a sword steady at her throat. Though, judging by the spots of red blooming at her neckline, perhaps not all that steady.

“Explain.” His voice echoes off the once-ruined walls of stone, and a hush falls over the crowd that has gathered.

A small boy pipes up, one of his message runners. “She’s been lurking around for the past two days, Ser.”

When Solas does not speak, the boy continues. “I seen her in the kitchens and the barracks, and over near the stables. Even saw her up by the ravens.”

He had also visited the kitchens, to deal with reports of mysteriously spoiled goods. And the barracks, where beloved possessions had gone missing and been found among others’ things. His stablemaster had complained about an infestation of mice, and many of the ravens had been freed.

“An’ just now, she was asking about _you,_ Ser. Weird stuff, an—”

“And that’s when I confronted her,” the man with the sword calls out. “The boy was clearly distressed.”

“I see.” Solas narrows his eyes. She is small, unassuming, with a kind face. Loose brown braids the color of dry dirt and round, rosy cheeks. No, he does not know her, but perhaps he should.

“Bring her to me.”

He stands and waits by the window on the far wall, hands clasped behind his back. Waits for the conclusion to the day’s particular brand of mischief. But when the door opens, all the air in his lungs escapes through it.

_Copper and ashes. Citrus and storms._

Solas gapes at her, at this unfamiliar intruder wearing someone else’s magic.

“Leave us.”

“But, Ser—”

“ _Leave._ ”

Rightfully confused, they release the woman and file out the door, closing it behind them.

She does not move, does not speak, does not look at him. He walks past her to turn the lock, and the taste of her magic is intoxicating, even if her body is all wrong.

“Why are you here?”

Silence.

He walks around to her, studies the angles of her face and the shape of her body. “Are you a friend, or an enemy to our cause?”

She gives no answer.

“What do you know of me?”

Her eyes dart up unexpectedly to meet his, and he starts. The irises are brown, as unfamiliar as the rest of her, but the intensity, the intimacy with which she searches him . . .

“Who are you?”

She answers with a smile, a beautifully, painfully familiar grin full of mischief and mirth. “Guess.”

But he does not have to. A necklace gleams red where it lies against her shirt; it draws his gaze and he cannot believe he did not notice. He takes the pendant in his palm and closes his fist, crushing the glass—and the charm along with it.

The color of her hair deepens while the brown of her eyes clears like clouds on the wind, until all that’s left is a soft golden green. Her skin grows darker and the plumpness in her cheeks fades, even as June’s marks re-etch their paths across her face. The smooth shape of her left arm twists into an intricately woven column of what can only be ironbark, and she wiggles the fingers like she knows he’s looking. It is discomforting to watch her change. Like waking up.

“I’ve learned a few tricks.”

“Yes.” He cannot help but smile affectionately. “I see you finally took up blood magic.”

Athi shrugs a shoulder. “You made a pretty good case.”

He wants to touch her, to feel the skin that suits her, to crush her body to his own. But he does not, must not, for they are still enemies in this war.

“What was the goal, _vhenan_? The supplies, the soldiers, the vermin. Was it your plan to irritate me into submission?”

“Yes,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you prepared to surrender?”

Solas shakes his head, more as a reminder to himself than a response. With her here, so close, teasing him like she used to, he is closer than he’d like to admit.

“Not yet? Well, that’s inconvenient. I suppose I’ll have to ask Sera for ideas next time. She’ll be very upset I didn’t come to her first . . . but I’m sure she knows someone with too many lizards.”

He can’t help it. He laughs. It feels foreign in his chest, on his face, in the room where he sleeps. He laughs until tears prick at the edges of his eyes, then he laughs until they fall.

Three years, he thinks, since he’s laughed like that.

The blossoms on her neckline—

“You’re hurt,” he says, and tips her chin up to look.

“Only a little.”

She’s right. Barely a scratch, but he heals it all the same. Then her hand is on the back of his neck and she is breathing in his exhale and whether it’s the rush of joy, or his long loneliness, or simply that he has missed her, he doesn’t know. But he meets her lips like coming home. He unpacks, moves in, rests, remembers.

He remembers how his fingers ride the curve of her waist, and the strength of her hair wrapped around them. Remembers the sounds she makes when her lips part and he delves in to taste her with his tongue. Remembers the smell of her soap and the beat of his heart. _She is real. She is real._ Remembers the furrow of her brow, little lines above her nose, when he opens his eyes and sees she wants this, wants him still, even now.

He is home, and he never wants to leave.

Athi pulls away only to press her forehead to his. “Come with me, _ma lath_. Be done.”

But the release she offers is not hers to give. The lines of her face are pleading, hopeful, then heartbroken as he steps back.

“I am so sorry,” he says, and pounds on the door. “They will be looking for the skin you wore, and that will buy you time, but you should leave. Now.”

Her eyes fill with fire and tears and defiance. “Or what? Would you have me executed?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know. “Your freedom is a mercy I need not offer. Accept it, I beg you.”

She flips up the hood of her cloak and hurries to the window.

“Wait,” he calls. “I am curious, _vhenan._ What was your question?”

She stops, one leg slung out over the ledge. “What question?”

“To the boy.”

“Oh. That little shit.” She sighs. “I asked if you were happy.”

And she leaves him.

**Author's Note:**

> [on Tumblr!](https://ellstersmash.tumblr.com/post/174554731811/kissing-prompt-i-mean-unbreakable-kiss)


End file.
